Billreported in theAmerican Congress, 1846, for the Purchase ofCatlin’s Indian Gallery, July 24th, 1846. Read and laid upon the table. Mr.W. W. Campbell, from the Joint Committee on the Library, made the followingReport:—The Joint Committee on the Library, to whom was referred the Memorial of Mr. Catlin for the purchase of his Gallery of Indian Collections and Paintings; and also the Memorial of American artists abroad, and of American citizens resident in London, respectfully report—That of Mr. Catlin, who desires to place, on certain conditions, his extensive collection of Indian portraits, costumes, and other objects of interest connected with Indian life, in the possession of the Government, it is hardly necessary to speak, since his reputation is established throughout this country and Europe. A native of the state of Pennsylvania, his early studies were directed to the law, which, under an impulse of enthusiasm that often marks original genius, he soon abandoned for the pencil, stimulated by desire to give to his country exact and spirited representations of the persons, costumes, ceremonies, and homes of the aboriginal inhabitants of this continent, now retreating and gradually vanishing away before the power of civilization. Nor did he devote himself to his enterprises merely to gratify curiosity and preserve memorials of a bold, independent, and remarkable race of men, but to direct attention to certain lofty traits of their character, and excite, generally, friendly sentiments and efforts for their benefit. In making this collection, he expended eight entire years of his life and 20,000 dollars, and visited, often at great hazard of his personal safety, more than forty different (and most of them remote) tribes. Unaided by public or private patronage, he pursued and effected his object, sustained, as he observes, by the ambition of procuring a full and complete pictorial history of a numerous and interesting race of human beings rapidly sinking into oblivion, and encouraged by the belief that the collection would finally be appropriated and protected by the Government of his own country, as a monument to a race once sole proprietors of this country, but who will soon have yielded it up, and with it probably their existence also, to civilized man.On Mr. Catlin’s return from the western prairies, the attention of Congress was, in 1837 and 1838, turned towards his collection, and a resolution for its purchase was moved in the House, and referred to the Committee on Indian Affairs, who, it is understood, expressed in their report an unanimous opinion in favour of the purchase, though the near approach of the close of the session prevented its being submitted for consideration.In transferring his collection to Europe, Mr. Catlin had no intention of alienating it, or changing its nationality and destination; but, by its exhibition, sought to secure support for his family, and obtain means of bringing out his great and expensive work on the Indians—a work which has thrown much light upon their character and customs, and been received with distinguished favour on both sides of the Atlantic.The judgment of our citizens, and that of eminent foreigners, is concurrent in regard to the value of this collection for the illustration of our history, and as a work of art. By desire of the King of France, it now occupies a gallery in the Louvre, and has been highly eulogized by the most distinguished artists and men of science in Paris. A large gold medal has been presented to Mr. Catlin by the King of the Belgians, with a letter expressing a high opinion of his productions.The American artists now in Paris, in a memorial addressed to Congress, urging the importance of securing this collection to our country, say, “Having made ourselves acquainted with the extent and interest of this unique collection, and of its peculiar interest to our country; and also aware of the encouraging offers now made to its proprietor for its permanent establishment in England, as well as the desire generally manifested here to have it added to the historical gallery of Versailles, we have ventured to unite in the joint expression of our anxiety that the members of the present Congress may pass some resolution that may be the means of restoring so valuable a collection to our country, and fixing it among its records. Interesting to our countrymen generally, it is absolutely necessary to American artists. The Italian who wishes to portray the history of Rome finds remnants of her sons in the Vatican; the French artist can study the ancient Gauls in the museums of the Louvre; and the Tower of London is rich in the armour and weapons of the Saxon race.“Your memorialists, therefore, most respectfully trust that Mr. Catlin’s collection may be purchased and cherished by the Federal Government, as a nucleus for a national museum, where American artists may freely study that bold race who once held possession of our country, and who are so fast disappearing before the tide of civilization. Without such a collection, few of the glorious pages of our early history can be illustrated, while the use made of it here by French artists, in recording upon canvas the American discoveries of their countrymen in the last century, shows its importance.”Your Committee feel the justice of these sentiments of American artists, and also the importance, as suggested in their memorial, of securing, by the purchase of his collection, the future efforts of Mr. Catlin for its enlargement. Let the Government appropriate his collection, and the chief ambition of its author’s life will be realized, and he will be enabled, in a few years, to double it in value and extent.The bill which has recently passed the House for the establishment of the Smithsonian Institution provides that there shall belong to it a “gallery of art;” and of course it must be intended that such gallery shall be occupied by works of art. That such works should be principally American, is the obvious dictate of patriotism. No productions, your Committee believe, at present exist, more appropriate to this gallery than those of Mr. Catlin, or of equal importance. Should Congress fail to act on this subject,or decide unfavourably to Mr. Catlin’s proposal, he may, notwithstanding his reluctance, be compelled to accept the positive and advantageous offers now made to him in England.The love of art, and respect for those who have cultivated it with success, especially for those who have illustrated, by their productions, the history of their country, have ever been cherished by the most civilized nations. It has been justly observed, that “among the Greeks the arts were not so much objects to promote gratification as of public interest; they were employed as the most powerful stimulants of piety and patriotism, commissioned to confer distinction upon those who were conspicuous for valour, for wisdom, and for virtue. A statue or picture gave celebrity to a city or a state, and a great artist was considered a national ornament—a public benefactor, whom all were bound to honour and reward.”Your Committee believe the price of his collection, as named by Mr. Catlin, is moderate, and that a failure to obtain it would occasion deep regret to all the friends of art, and to all Americans who reasonably and justly desire to preserve memorials of the Indian race, or the means by which our future artists and historians may illustrate the great and most interesting events in the early periods and progress of our country.The Committee, therefore, recommend that the bill for the establishment of the Smithsonian Institute be so amended as that provision shall be made therein for the purchase of Mr. Catlin’s gallery at the price mentioned by him—namely, sixty-five thousand dollars—payable in annual instalments of ten thousand dollars.New York Journal of Commerce, Nov. 12th.
Billreported in theAmerican Congress, 1846, for the Purchase ofCatlin’s Indian Gallery, July 24th, 1846. Read and laid upon the table. Mr.W. W. Campbell, from the Joint Committee on the Library, made the followingReport:—
The Joint Committee on the Library, to whom was referred the Memorial of Mr. Catlin for the purchase of his Gallery of Indian Collections and Paintings; and also the Memorial of American artists abroad, and of American citizens resident in London, respectfully report—
That of Mr. Catlin, who desires to place, on certain conditions, his extensive collection of Indian portraits, costumes, and other objects of interest connected with Indian life, in the possession of the Government, it is hardly necessary to speak, since his reputation is established throughout this country and Europe. A native of the state of Pennsylvania, his early studies were directed to the law, which, under an impulse of enthusiasm that often marks original genius, he soon abandoned for the pencil, stimulated by desire to give to his country exact and spirited representations of the persons, costumes, ceremonies, and homes of the aboriginal inhabitants of this continent, now retreating and gradually vanishing away before the power of civilization. Nor did he devote himself to his enterprises merely to gratify curiosity and preserve memorials of a bold, independent, and remarkable race of men, but to direct attention to certain lofty traits of their character, and excite, generally, friendly sentiments and efforts for their benefit. In making this collection, he expended eight entire years of his life and 20,000 dollars, and visited, often at great hazard of his personal safety, more than forty different (and most of them remote) tribes. Unaided by public or private patronage, he pursued and effected his object, sustained, as he observes, by the ambition of procuring a full and complete pictorial history of a numerous and interesting race of human beings rapidly sinking into oblivion, and encouraged by the belief that the collection would finally be appropriated and protected by the Government of his own country, as a monument to a race once sole proprietors of this country, but who will soon have yielded it up, and with it probably their existence also, to civilized man.
On Mr. Catlin’s return from the western prairies, the attention of Congress was, in 1837 and 1838, turned towards his collection, and a resolution for its purchase was moved in the House, and referred to the Committee on Indian Affairs, who, it is understood, expressed in their report an unanimous opinion in favour of the purchase, though the near approach of the close of the session prevented its being submitted for consideration.
In transferring his collection to Europe, Mr. Catlin had no intention of alienating it, or changing its nationality and destination; but, by its exhibition, sought to secure support for his family, and obtain means of bringing out his great and expensive work on the Indians—a work which has thrown much light upon their character and customs, and been received with distinguished favour on both sides of the Atlantic.
The judgment of our citizens, and that of eminent foreigners, is concurrent in regard to the value of this collection for the illustration of our history, and as a work of art. By desire of the King of France, it now occupies a gallery in the Louvre, and has been highly eulogized by the most distinguished artists and men of science in Paris. A large gold medal has been presented to Mr. Catlin by the King of the Belgians, with a letter expressing a high opinion of his productions.
The American artists now in Paris, in a memorial addressed to Congress, urging the importance of securing this collection to our country, say, “Having made ourselves acquainted with the extent and interest of this unique collection, and of its peculiar interest to our country; and also aware of the encouraging offers now made to its proprietor for its permanent establishment in England, as well as the desire generally manifested here to have it added to the historical gallery of Versailles, we have ventured to unite in the joint expression of our anxiety that the members of the present Congress may pass some resolution that may be the means of restoring so valuable a collection to our country, and fixing it among its records. Interesting to our countrymen generally, it is absolutely necessary to American artists. The Italian who wishes to portray the history of Rome finds remnants of her sons in the Vatican; the French artist can study the ancient Gauls in the museums of the Louvre; and the Tower of London is rich in the armour and weapons of the Saxon race.
“Your memorialists, therefore, most respectfully trust that Mr. Catlin’s collection may be purchased and cherished by the Federal Government, as a nucleus for a national museum, where American artists may freely study that bold race who once held possession of our country, and who are so fast disappearing before the tide of civilization. Without such a collection, few of the glorious pages of our early history can be illustrated, while the use made of it here by French artists, in recording upon canvas the American discoveries of their countrymen in the last century, shows its importance.”
Your Committee feel the justice of these sentiments of American artists, and also the importance, as suggested in their memorial, of securing, by the purchase of his collection, the future efforts of Mr. Catlin for its enlargement. Let the Government appropriate his collection, and the chief ambition of its author’s life will be realized, and he will be enabled, in a few years, to double it in value and extent.
The bill which has recently passed the House for the establishment of the Smithsonian Institution provides that there shall belong to it a “gallery of art;” and of course it must be intended that such gallery shall be occupied by works of art. That such works should be principally American, is the obvious dictate of patriotism. No productions, your Committee believe, at present exist, more appropriate to this gallery than those of Mr. Catlin, or of equal importance. Should Congress fail to act on this subject,or decide unfavourably to Mr. Catlin’s proposal, he may, notwithstanding his reluctance, be compelled to accept the positive and advantageous offers now made to him in England.
The love of art, and respect for those who have cultivated it with success, especially for those who have illustrated, by their productions, the history of their country, have ever been cherished by the most civilized nations. It has been justly observed, that “among the Greeks the arts were not so much objects to promote gratification as of public interest; they were employed as the most powerful stimulants of piety and patriotism, commissioned to confer distinction upon those who were conspicuous for valour, for wisdom, and for virtue. A statue or picture gave celebrity to a city or a state, and a great artist was considered a national ornament—a public benefactor, whom all were bound to honour and reward.”
Your Committee believe the price of his collection, as named by Mr. Catlin, is moderate, and that a failure to obtain it would occasion deep regret to all the friends of art, and to all Americans who reasonably and justly desire to preserve memorials of the Indian race, or the means by which our future artists and historians may illustrate the great and most interesting events in the early periods and progress of our country.
The Committee, therefore, recommend that the bill for the establishment of the Smithsonian Institute be so amended as that provision shall be made therein for the purchase of Mr. Catlin’s gallery at the price mentioned by him—namely, sixty-five thousand dollars—payable in annual instalments of ten thousand dollars.
New York Journal of Commerce, Nov. 12th.
When I had completed the pictures ordered by the King, his Majesty graciously granted me an audience in the Palace of the Tuileries to deliver them, on which occasion he met me with great cheerfulness, and, having received from me a verbal description of each picture, he complimented me on the spirit of their execution, and expressed the highest satisfaction with them, and desired me to attach to the back of each a full written description. The dimensions of these paintings were 30 by 36 inches, and the subjects as follow:—
His Majesty had on several occasions, in former interviews, spoken of the great interest of the scenes of the early history of the French colonies of America, and French explorations and discoveries in those regions, and the subject was now resumed again, as one of peculiar interest, affording some of the finest scenes for the pencil of the artist, which he thought I was peculiarly qualified to illustrate. Additional anecdotes of his rambling life in America were very humorously related; and after the interview I returned to my painting-room, and continued happily engaged at my other pictures, with my familiar sweet smiles and caresses about me.
As a painter often works at his easel with a double thought, one upon the subject he is creating upon the canvas, and the other upon the world that is about him, I kept constantly at work, and pleasantly divided my extra thoughts upon the amusing little tricks that were being played around me, and the contemplation of scenes and events of my life gone by. I ran over its table of contents in this way: “My native valley of Wyoming—the days and recollections of my earliest boyhood in it—my ten years in the valley of theOc-qua-go, where I held alternately the plough, my rifle, and fishing-tackle—my five years at the classics—my siege with Blackstone and Coke upon Littleton—my three years’ practice of the law in the Courts of Pennsylvania—the five years’ practice of my art of portrait-painting in Philadelphia—my eight years spent amongst the Indian tribes of the prairies and Rocky Mountains—and, since that, my eight years spent in the light of the refined and civilized world, where I have been admitted to Palaces, and into the society of Kings, Queens, and Princes—andnowat my easel, in my studio, with my dear little babes around me, thanking Him who has blessed me with them, and courage and health, through all the vicissitudes of my chequered life, and now with strength to stand by and support and protect them.”
I thought also of the King, the wonderful man, with whose benignant and cheerful face I had been so often conversing; whose extraordinary life had been so much more chequered than my own; many of whose early days had been spent on the broad rivers and amongst the dense and gloomy forests of my own country; who, driven by political commotions from his native land, sought an asylum in the United States of America, and there, in the youthful energy of his native character, 52 years ago, crossed and re-crossed the Alleghany Mountains, descended the Ohio river 600 miles in his simple and rickety pirogue, and from the mouth of the Ohio to New Orleans, 1000 miles on the muddy waves of the Mississippi, amidst its dangerous snags and sand-bars, when the banks of those two mighty rivers were inhabited only by savages, whose humble wigwams he entered, and shared their hospitality; who afterwards visited the shores of Lake Erie, and also the Falls of Niagara, before the axe of sacrilegious man had shorn it of its wild and native beauties; who visited the little commencement of the town of Buffalo and the village of the Seneca Indians; who paddled his canoe 90 miles through the Seneca Lake to Ithaca, and from thence travelled by an Indian’s path, with his knapsack on his back, to the Susquehana river, which he descended in an Indian canoe to Wyoming, my native valley; and then on foot, with his knapsack again upon his back, crossed the Wilkesbarre and Pokono Mountains to Easton and Philadelphia; and who consequently thus knew, 52 years ago, more of the great western regions of America, and of the modes of its people, than one of a thousand Americans do at the present day.
I contemplated the character of this extraordinary man, reared in the luxuries of Palaces, thrown thus into the midstof the vast and dreary forests of the Mississippi, launching his fragile boat and staking his life upon its dangerous waves, and laying his wearied limbs upon its damp and foggy banks at night, amidst the howling wolves and rattlesnakes and mosquitoes; and after that, and all these adventures, called, in the commotions of his country, to mount the throne and wield the sceptre over one of the greatest and most enlightened nations of the earth. I beheld this great man in these strange vicissitudes of life, and France, whose helm he took in the midst of a tempest, now raised to the zenith of her national wealth and glory, after 17 years of uninterrupted peace and prosperity. I contemplated the present wealth and health of that nation and her institutions, her grand internal improvements, and cultivation of science and the arts; and I reflected also, with equal pleasure and surprise, on what I had seen with my own eyes, thegreatness of soulof that monarch as he was taking the poor Indians of the forest by the hand in his Palace, and expressing to them the gratitude he never yet had lost sight of, that he bore them for the kindness with which their tribes everywhere treated him when he entered their wigwams, hungry, on the banks of the Mississippi and the great lakes in America. He had the frankness and truthfulness to tell them that “he loved them,” for the reasons he had given, and the kindness of heart to convince them of his sincerity in the way that carries the most satisfactory conviction to the mind of an Indian as well as it often does to that of a white man.
These contemplations were rapid and often repeated, and there were many more; and they never passed through my mind without compelling me to admire and revere the man whose energy of character and skill have enabled him, with like success, to steer his pirogue amidst the snags of the Mississippi, and at the helm of his nation, to guide her out of the tempest of a revolution, and onward, through a reign of peace and industry, to wealth and power, to which she never before has attained.
In the midst of such reflections I often strolled alone in a contemplative mood through the wilderness throngs of the Boulevards—the great central avenue and crossing-place—theaortaof all the circulating world—to gaze upon the endless throng of human beings sweeping by me, bent upon their peculiar avocations of business or of pleasure—of virtue or of vice; contrasting the glittering views about me with the quiet and humble scenes I had witnessed in various parts of my roaming life.
In the midst of this sweeping throng, knowing none and unknown, I found I could almost imagine myself in the desert wilderness, with as little to disturb the current of contemplative thoughts as if I were floating down the gliding current of the Missouri in my bark canoe, in silent contemplation of the rocks and forests on its banks.
In a different mood, also, I as often left my easel and mingled with the throng, with my little chattering children by my side, forgetting to think, and with eyes like theirs, scanned the thousands and tens of thousands of pretty things displayed in the shops, and whiled away in perfect bliss, as others do, an hour upon the pavements of the Boulevards.
The reader has learned, from various books, the features of this splendid scene, with all its life and din and glittering toys, and of Paris, with its endless mysteries, and beauties, and luxuries, and vices, which it is not the province of this work to describe; but from all that he has read he may not yet know how completely he may be lost sight of in the crowds of the Boulevards, and what positive retirement he may find and enjoy, unknowing and unknown, if he wishes to do so, in his apartments in the centre of Paris, where his neighbours are certainly the nearest and most numerous in the world.
In London and New York one often thinks it strange that he knows not his neighbours by the side of him; but in Paris, those on thesidesare seldom taken into consideration as such, and so little do people know of, or care for, eachother’s business, that few have any acquaintance with their neighboursaboveandbelowthem.
The circumscribed limits of the city, and the density of its population, enable the Parisians to make a glittering display in the streets, in the brilliancy and taste of which they no doubt outdo any other people in the world. The close vicinity of its inhabitants, and the facility with which they get into the streets, and the tens of thousands of inducements that tempt them there, tend to the concentration of fashion and gaiety in the principal avenues and arcades, which, in the pleasant evenings of spring and summer, seem converted into splendid and brilliant salons, with the appearance of continuous and elegant soirées. To these scenes all Parisians and all foreigners are alike admitted, to see and enjoy the myriads of sights to be seen in the shop-windows, as well as to most of the splendid collections of works of literature and the arts, which, being under the Government control, are free to the inspection of all who wish to see them. Amidst most of these I have been, like thousands of others, a visitor and admirer for two years, seeking for information and amusement—for study and contemplation—alone; or enjoying them in company with my little children, or travelling friends, for whose aid and amusement I have as often given my time.
The reader will here see that I have before me the materials for another book, but as the object of this work is attained, and its limits approached, with my known aversion to travel over frequented ground, I must refer him to other pens than mine for what I might have written had I the room for it, and had it not been written twenty times before.
The little bit of my life thus spent in the capital of France, though filled with anxieties and grief, has had its pleasant parts, having seen much to instruct and amuse me, and having also met with, as in London, many warm friends, to whom I shall feel attached as long as I live. In the English society in Paris I met a number of my Londonfriends, where the acquaintance was renewed, with great kindness on their parts, and with much pleasure to myself.
I met also many American families residing in Paris; and, added to their numbers, the constant throng of Americans who are passing to and from the classic ground of the East, or making their way across the Atlantic to the French metropolis, and swelling their occasional overflowing and cheerful soirées. At these I saw many of the élite and fashionable of the French, and noticed also, and much to my regret, as well as surprise, that, in the various intercourse I had in different classes, the Americans generally mixed less with the English than the French society.
This is probably attributable in a great degree to the passion which English and Americans have, in their flying visits to the city of all novelties, to see and study something new, instead of spending their valuable time with people of their own family and language, whom and whose modes they can see at home. This I deem a pity; and though among the passing travellers the cause is easily applied, and the excuse as easily accepted, yet among the resident English and Americans, of whom there are a great many and fashionable families, there seems a mutual unsocial and studied reserve, which stands in the way of much enjoyment, that I believe lies at the doors of kindred people in a foreign land.
My time, however, was so much engrossed with anxieties and grief and my application to my art, that I shared but moderately in the pleasures of any society; and the few observations I have been able to make I have consequently drawn from less intercourse than has been had by many others, who have more fully described than I could do had this book been written for the purpose.
My interviews with society in this part of the world, as far as they have been held, have been general, and my observations, I believe, have been unbiassed. And as I mingled with society to see and enjoy, but not to describe, my remarks in this place, on the society and manners of Parisians and people in Paris, must end here, and necessarily be thus brief, to come within the bounds of my intentions in commencing this work.
The society which fascinated me most and called for all my idle hours was that of my four dear little children, whose arms, having been for ever torn from the embrace of an affectionate mother, were ready to cling to my neck whenever I quitted the toils of my painting-room. There was a charm in that little circle of society which all the fascinations of the fashionable world could never afford me, and I preferred the simple happiness that was thus sweetly spread around me to the amusements and arts of matured and fashionable life.
The days and nights and weeks and months of my life were passing on whilst my house rang with the constant notes of my little girls and my dear little “Tambour Major,” producing a glow of happiness in my life, as its hours were thus carolled away, which I never before had attained to.
My happiness was here too complete to last long, and, as the sequel will show, like most precious gifts, was too confidently counted on to continue. A sudden change came over this pleasing dream of life; the cheering notes of my little companions were suddenly changed into groans, and my occupations at my easel were at an end. The chirping and chattering in the giddy maze of their little dances were finished, and, having taken to their beds, my occupation was changed to their bedsides, where they were all together writhing in the agonies of disease, and that of so serious a nature as to require all my attention by night and by day, and at length anxieties of the most painful kind, and alarm—of grief, and a broken heart! To those of my readers who have ever set their whole heart upon and identified their existence with that of a darling little boy, and wept for him, it is unnecessary—and to those who have never been blessed with such a gift it would be useless—for me to name the pangs that broke my heartfor the fate of my little “Tambour Major,” who, in that unlucky hour, thoughtlessly relinquishing all his little toys, laid down with his three little sisters, to run the chances with them, and then to be singled out as he was by the hand of death.
In kindness the reader will pardon these few words that flow in tears from the broken and burning heart of a fond father; they take but a line or two, and are the only monument that will be raised to the memory of my dear little George, who lived, in the sweetness of his innocence, to gladden and then to break the heart of his doating parent, the only one while he was living, to appreciate his loveliness, and now the only one to mourn for him. The remains of this dear little fellow were sent to New York, as a lovely flower to be planted by the grave of his mother, and thus were my pleasures and peace in Paris ended. Two idols of my heart had thus vanished from me there, leaving my breast with ahealingand afresh wound, to be opened and bleeding together. Myatelierhad lost all its charms; theescalieralso was dreary, for its wonted echoing and enlivening notes had ceased; and the beautiful pavement of the Place Madeleine, which was under my windows, and the daily resort, with his hoop and his drum, of my little “Tambour Major.”
The Boulevards also, and the Champs Elysées, and the garden of the Tuileries, the scenes of our daily enjoyment, were overcast with a gloom, and I left them all.
At the time of writing this my heart flies back and daily hovers about the scenes of so many endearing associations, while my hand is at work seeking amusement and forgetfulness at my easel. I have before said that the practice of my art is to be the principal ambition of the rest of my life; and as the beginning of this chapter found me in myatelierin Paris, the end of it leaves me in mystudioatNo. 6, Waterloo Place, in London, with my collection, my thousands of studies, and my little children about me where I shall be hereafter steadily seeking the rational pleasures and benefits I can draw from them; and where my friends and the world who value me or my works may find me without ceremony, and will be greeted, amongst the numerous and curious works in my collection, enumerated in the catalogue which I have given, for the amusement and benefit of the reader, at the end of my first volume.
The two following Letters, written from the Ioway Mission on the Upper Missouri, with several others more recently received by Mrs. A. Richardson, of Newcastle-on-Tyne, bear conclusive proof of the sincerity of the Society of Friends, and of the benefit that promises to flow from their well-directed and charitable exertions.
IOWAY INDIANS.
Extract of a Letter from S. M. Irvin.
Ioway and Sac Mission, May 24th, 1847.
Having a leisure morning, I most cheerfully give a few minutes to my dear friend in England. I have just been thinking, before I took my pen, how very mysterious are the workings of God’s providence! Near four years ago, a party of our Ioway Indians started out on what appeared to us to be a wrong and uncalled-for expedition. We dreaded the result, and, so far as our opinion was consulted, it was given against the design, advising rather that they should stay at home, go to labour and economy, and not go to be shown as wild animals. In these notions we thought we were sustained by reason and Scripture, and were at least sincere in our views. We, however, made but little resistance, and when it was determined that they should go we submitted, did what we could for their comfort and success, gave them the parting hand, and commended them to the care of a merciful Providence. They started, spent the winter in St. Louis and New Orleans, associated with bad company, were exceedingly intemperate, and seemed to have grown much worse, which tended to confirm us in the belief of the error and impropriety of such a measure, and our hearts mourned over them. In the spring they went to the eastern part of the United States, and from thence to England. From the latter place we heard of the death of one and another, and of a probability of their going to France, and becoming enchained with the externals of the Catholic religion. Here we thought our opinions were fully confirmed. How can any good result from this? How much harm must ensue to these poor people, and probably through them to their nation!
But at this point a ray of light seemed to break forth, and we could seethrough the dark vista a possibility of good resulting from it. Hitherto we could only trust in the government of God, knowing that He would bring good out of evil, but we could not see by what process it could be accomplished. But we now began to learn that the people of England, particularly the Society of Friends, were taking a warm interest in their welfare, stimulating their minds in favour of industry, economy, and Christianity, and especially guarding them against the pernicious effects of ardent spirits. There the foundation of hope, on rational and tangible principles, commenced. Perhaps the friends of God and his cause in England were to be the honoured instruments of making an indelible impression on the minds of these poor wanderers, and, if so, how well will they be repaid for their pilgrimage, and how happily shall we be disappointed! Next came an affectionate letter from your own hand. This was the second development of the unseen but operating hand of God in carrying on his own work. A young man of ardent piety and devotion to the cause of God was next recommended as a suitable person to come and labour among the Indians as missionary from England. I may say that the whole mystery was now plain. We could now say to each other, God has taken them over to England to send a suitable missionary, whose labours will be, doubtless, blessed to their conversion, and thus we could see how easily God, ourcovenant-keeping God, can foil the designs of Satan. How our hearts did burn within us when we thought of the goodness of God in these things! The original design we could not but look upon as a work of the enemy, got up for the purpose of selfishness and speculation, but now we could see the scale turn, and the pleasing prospect of hailing our young brother as a fellow-helper in this cause more than reconciled us to the hitherto mysterious movement. He came, and, though it was found best under the circumstances to assign him for a time to a different field of labour, still it is the same common cause, whether among the Otoes or Ioways.
Very important pecuniary aid, both in money and clothing, was also subsequently received, from which our cause has, in no small degree, been aided and encouraged. Next a helpmate is proposed for our young friend, who is here alone, and toiling against the trials of a new and strange society and manners, and the prejudices of the Indians. God, through suitable instrumentality, conducts the negotiation to a favourable issue; the solitary individual is strengthened to part from her friends and country, is conducted by the hand of God across the dangerous deep, is brought more than 2000 miles, and, by a great variety of hazardous conveyances, almost to the centre of a great continent, and is now safely landed within the walls of this house. Truly may we exclaim, What hath God wrought! But the wonders and cause for gratitude stop not here. Our kind friend, Miss G., is not only here, but already is she engaged, twice or thrice a-day, in instructing the poor little daughters of the forest in needlework and such other instruction as may be suitable, and as yet I see nothing in the way but that she may very soon be able to give every moment of time that she can spare to these little ones. How pleasing will this be! How cheerfully and happily will the hours pass away, and how largely will she be rewarded for all her toil! I have skipped, as you will see, with more than eagle flight, over this narrative, for it furnishes materials enough for an interesting volume. I should like much to dwell upon it, but your mind can carry out the details, and see, as clearly as any other, the lineaments of God’s goodness.
Miss G. will have so much to say to you, that I am sure she will not know where to commence, and I think she will be about as much puzzled to describe many things so that you can understand.
Mr. Bloohm has not yet arrived from the Otoe mission, but we look for him daily. So soon as I heard of Miss G.’s approach, I advised him of it, but he, being about fifty miles from the post-office, may not have received the letter. That you may better understand our relative situations, I will subjoin a rude outline of them with the pen.
Miss G. remained some time in St. Louis for Mr. Lowrie, and was afterwards instructed by him to come on to this place, he being prevented, by low water, from calling for her at St. Louis. Last Friday he passed up the Missouri river to the Otoe and Omahaw mission, leaving word that he would be back, at the farthest, by the end of this week. If Mr. Bloohm be able, he will come down with Mr. L., if not before him. As soon as they arrive, we hope to be able to make full arrangements about all our affairs, and you may expect to be informed of all that will interest you in due time.
Extract of a Letter from Jane M. Bloohm.
Ioway and Sac Mission, May 28th, 1847.
[After giving several interesting particulars of her journey from St. Louis, and arrival at the station, the writer proceeds:—]
I feel assured, my dear friend, you would be pleased with this institution. The boarding-house is a most excellent building, three stories high. On the ground floor are the dining-room, kitchen, pantry, milk-house, and two sleeping-rooms. On the second story, the chapel in the centre, from back to front, and on one side the boys’ school in front, with two small rooms behind, which Mr. Hamilton occupies. On the other side of the chapel is the girls’ school, with two small rooms behind it for Mr. Irvin. The third story has the girls’ bedroom, back and front, with a small one off it parted with deals, where I sleep. The boys’ on the other side is the same; in the middle is a spare bedroom and Mr. Irvin’s study.
We rise at five o’clock, and at half-past assemble in the chapel for worship. While there, breakfast is placed on the table, and the bell rings again, when we go down. There are four tables, but not all full at present, as some of the children have left. Mr. Irvin sits at one table with the boys, Mr. Hamilton and his lady (when able) with the girls. Our table is called the family table; there are Mrs. Irvin, their father and mother,Mrs. I.’s two children, Mrs. H.’s eldest girl, the two men, and myself, as also any other strangers. Mr. Irvin’s father and mother are two very old people; they intend leaving as soon as Mr. Lowrie comes, old Mr. I. not being able to manage the farm now. At breakfast each child has a pewter plate, with a tin pot turned upside down upon it, a knife and fork, and spoon. As soon as a blessing is asked, they each turn over their tin pot, and those who sit with them at table fill it with milk, and give them corn bread, boiled corn, batten cake (which is much like our pancake), a piece of bacon, and treacle. Of this they all eat as much as they like. Each table is served the same, with the exception that we have coffee for breakfast, and tea for supper. At dinner there is sometimes a little boiled rice, greens, &c., but no other kind of meat than bacon. We dine at half-past twelve, and sup at seven. After supper we all remain, and have worship in the dining-room; sometimes Mr. Hamilton prays and sings in Indian; and, oh! my beloved friend, could you only hear the sweet voices of those dear heathen children, you would be astonished, they sing so well. I do most sincerely hope that the day is not far distant when they shall not only worship Him with the voice, but with the understanding, and in truth.
Mr. H. teaches all the children from nine till twelve. After breakfast I take the girls up to make their beds; two and two sleep together; they did it so neatly this morning. When done, they go with me to school to sew or knit till nine, then again after dinner till two, and after five till supper-time, when I assist to wash their hands and faces, and put them to bed. Some of them are very fine children, but I am surprised I am able to go so near them, for they are very dirty; but they seem very fond of me. You will laugh when I say that two or three of them often come running to me, and clasp me round the waist. They wish to teach me to speak their language; they can say a good many English words; they call their teachers father and mother. A few of them are very little. After I put on their nightcaps, and lift them into bed, they all repeat a prayer. You will be surprised when I say I do feel such an interest in them; I do wish these feelings may not only continue, but increase. I feel quite happy, and have never had the least feeling of regret at my coming out, and I trust I never shall.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Irvin are most desirous for us to remain here, but that will rest with Mr. Lowrie and P. B. I am willing to go wherever I am of most use. It is a most arduous and responsible office we each hold, from the little I have seen (and it is but little to what I shall see if the Lord spare me). We need the prayers of our dear friends. Oh! forget us not, you, our far distant and beloved friends; entreat our Heavenly Father to give us much of his Spirit, and to us help along. Your old friendLittle Wolfcame to see me. He said I might give his and his family’s love to you. A few more came to welcome me; they are constantly coming about the house. I am just sent for to assist in the ironing, and have had to write this while the irons were heating. There is no mangle here. The children’s clothes are washed and repaired every week.
May 31st.—Just as I finished the above on Friday afternoon, the arrival of two gentlemen was announced. They were Mr. Lowrie and my dear P. B. The latter is looking thin, but upon the whole is much better, as also much better than I expected to find him; as for colour, an Indian: but setting aside his Indian complexion, I was glad to see a known face, and to meet a beloved friend; and now, my dear friend, I can call him my beloved husband. The marriage took place on Saturday the 29th, at eight o’clock in the evening, by Mr. Hamilton, in Mr. Irvin’s room. Old Mr. and Mrs. Irvin were there, Mr. and Mrs. Irvin junior, Mr. Lowrie, Mr. Melody (who had come to the mission on a visit), and one of the men, who had expressed a wish to be present. Mrs. H. was not strong enough to join us, which I did regret. Mr. Lowrie has settled for us to remain here, at least for some time; P. B. to assist Mr. H. with the boys and other labour, while I take the full charge of the girls. Oh! that we may each have strength to perform these our arduous duties. The old people leave in a few days, when we shall have their room, which is on the ground floor, close by the dining-room. We shall have to sit at table with the children, and should Mr. H. be from home or sick, at any time, we shall have the full charge. We have, one and all, made up our minds to assist each other when it is needful, and I do most sincerely pray that we may be enabled to labour together in the same spirit which was in Christ Jesus. It is His work, it is His cause; and we all, I trust, esteem our privilege great, that we, unworthy as we are, should be permitted to take part in this glorious work. Mr. Lowrie, I believe, intends leaving to-morrow; it will be three weeks before he can reach New York. Mr. Melody left this morning; he speaks highly of the kindness he received while in England, and, I believe, would very well like to pay a second visit. * * * * And now, dear friend, I think I have given you all the intelligence that it is in my power to send at the present time. It is likely that my dear husband may send a note, but he is much occupied, and, I believe, going to St. Joseph with Mr. Lowrie. He joins with me in kindest love to you and Mr. ——, not forgetting all our dear friends, to whom you will be so kind as to present it, and ever believe me to remain
Your most affectionate friend,J. M. Bloohm.
HORSE-TAMING:
Being an Account of the successful application, in two recent Experiments made in England, of the expeditious method of Taming Horses, as practised by the Red Indians of North America.—Communicated byAlexander John Ellis, B.A.,of Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1842.
Extract.
The object of the following pages is two-fold: first, to extract the account of the North American Indian method of Horse-taming, as given by Mr. Catlin in his new work, entitled ‘Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Condition of the North American Indians,’ and to detail certain experiments which have been tried by the direction and in the presence of the Communicator; and, second, to urge gentlemen, farmers, stable-keepers, horse-trainers, horse-breakers, and all others who may be interested in the taming of horses, to try for themselves experiments similar to those here detailed, experiments which are exceedingly easy of trial, and will be found exceedingly important in result.
The following is a detail of the experiments witnessed and directed by the Communicator:—
During a visit in the North Riding of Yorkshire, the volumes of Mr. Catlin first fell under the Communicator’s observation, and among other passages those just quoted struck him forcibly. Although he scarcely hesitated to comprehend the circumstances there detailed, under a well-known though much-disputed class of phenomena, he was nevertheless anxious to verify them by actual experiment before he attempted to theorize upon them. And he now prefers to give the naked facts to the public, and leave his readers to account for them after their own fashion. It so happened that, while staying with his brother-in-law, F. M., of M—— Park, the Communicator had the pleasure of meeting W. F. W., of B——, a great amateur in all matters relating to horses. In the course of conversation the Communicator mentioned what he had read about horse-taming, and the detail seemed to amuse them, although they evidently discredited the fact.The Communicator begged them to put the matter to the test of experiment, and M., who had in his stables a filly, not yet a year old, who had never been taken out since she had been removed from her dam, in the preceding November, agreed that he would try the experiment upon this filly. The Communicator made a note of the experiments on the very days on which they were tried, and he here gives the substance of what he then wrote down.
Experiment the First.
Subject—A Filly, not yet a year old, who had never been taken out of the stable since she had been removed from her dam in the preceding November.
Friday, Feb. 11, 1842.—In the morning W. and M. brought the filly from the stable to the front of M.’s house. The filly was quite wild, and on being first taken out of the stable she bolted, and dragged W., who only held her by a short halter, through a heap of manure. W. changed the halter for a long training halter, which gave him such power over her that he was easily able to bring the little scared thing up to the front of the house. Both M. and W. seemed much amused, and laughingly asked E. (the Communicator) to instruct them in Catlin’s method of taming horses. E. did so as well as he could, quoting only from memory. The experiment was not tried very satisfactorily, but rather under disadvantages. The filly was in the open air, many strangers about her, and both the experimenters were seeking rather amusement from the failure than knowledge from the success of their experiment. W. kept hold of the halter, and M., with considerable difficulty, for the filly was very restive and frightened, managed to cover her eyes. He had been smoking just before, and the smoke must have had some effect on his breath. When he covered her eyes, heblewinto the nostrils, but afterwards, at E.’s request, hebreathed; and, as he immediately told E., directly that he began to breathe, the filly, who had very much resisted having her eyes covered and had been very restive, “stood perfectly still and trembled.” From that time she became very tractable. W. also breathed into her nostrils, and she evidently enjoyed it, and kept putting up her nose to receive the breath. She was exceedingly tractable and well behaved, and very loth to start, however much provoked. The waving of a red handkerchief, and the presenting of a hat to her eyes, while the presenter made a noise inside it, hardly seemed to startle her at all.
Saturday, Feb. 12, 1842.—This morning the filly was again led out to show its behaviour, which was so good as to call forth both astonishment and praise. It was exceedingly tractable, and followed W. about with a loose halter. Attempts were made to frighten it. M. put on a long scarlet Italian cap, and E. flapped a large Spanish cloak during a violent wind before its eyes, and any well broken-in horse would have started much more than did this yearling.
Experiment the Second.
Subject—A Filly, three years old, coming four, and very obstinate; quite unbroken-in.
Saturday, Feb. 12, 1842.—While the last experiments were being tried on the yearling, W. espied B., a farmer and tenant of M., with several men, at the distance of some fields, trying, most ineffectually, on the old system, to break-in a horse. W. proposed to go down and show him what effect had been produced on the yearling. The rest agreed, and W., M., and E. proceeded towards B., W. leading the yearling. On their way they had to lead her over a brook, which she passed after a little persuasion,without force. One of the fields through which she had to pass contained four horses, three of which trotted up and surrounded her, but she did not become in the least degree restive, or desirous of getting loose. When the party arrived at the spot, they found that B. and his men had tied their filly short up to a tree in the corner of a field, one side of which was walled, and the other hedged in. W. now delivered the yearling up to M., and proposed to B. to tame his horse after the new method, or (to use his own phrase) to “puff” it. B., who was aware of the character of his horse, anxiously warned W. not to approach it, cautioning him especially against the fore-feet, asserting that the horse would rear and strike him with the fore-feet, as it had “lamed” his own (B.’s) thigh just before they had come up. W. therefore proceeded very cautiously. He climbed the wall, and came at the horse through the tree, to the trunk of which he clung for some time, that he might secure a retreat in case of need. Immediately upon his touching the halter, the horse pranced about, and finally pulled away with a dogged and stubborn expression, which seemed to bid W. defiance. Taking advantage of this, W. leaned over as far as he could, clinging all the time to the tree with his right hand, and succeeded in breathing into one nostril, without, however, being able to blind the eyes. From that moment all became easy. W., who is very skilful in the management of a horse, coaxed it, and rubbed its face, and breathed from time to time into the nostrils, while the horse offered no resistance. In about ten minutes W. declared his conviction that the horse was subdued; and he then unfastened it, and, to the great and evident astonishment of B. (who had been trying all the morning in vain to gain a mastery over it), led it quietly away with a loose halter. Stopping in the middle of the field, with no one else near, W. quietly walked up to the horse, placed his arm over one eye and his hand over the other, and breathed into the nostrils. It was pleasing to observe how agreeable this operation appeared to the horse, who put up its nose continually to receive the “puff.” In this manner W. led the horse through all the fields, in one of which were the four horses already mentioned, who had formerly been the companions of the one just tamed, and who surrounded it, without, however, making it in the least degree restive. At length W. and the horse reached the stable-yard, where they were joined by C. W. C. C., of S—— Hall, and J. B. son of B. the farmer. In the presence ofthese, M., and E., W. first examined the fore-feet, and then the hind-feet of the horse, who offered no resistance, but, while W. was examining the hind-feet, leant its neck round, and kept nosing W.’s back. He next buckled on a surcingle, and then a saddle, and finally bitted the horse with a rope. During the whole of these operations the horse did not offer the slightest resistance, nor did it flinch in the least degree. All who witnessed the transaction were astonished at the result obtained. The Communicator regrets only that he is not at liberty to publish the names at length. This experiment of bitting was the last that W. tried, since the nature of the country about M—— Park did not admit of ridings being tried with any prospect of safety. The whole experiment lasted about an hour. It should be mentioned that when J. B., to whom W. delivered up the horse, attempted to lead it away, it resisted; whereupon E. recommended J. B. to breathe into its nostrils. He did so, and the horse followed him easily. The next day, B., who is severe and obstinate, began at this horse in the old method, and belaboured it dreadfully, whereupon the horse very sensibly broke away. This result is important, since it shows that the spirit is subdued, not broken.
These are all the experiments which the Communicator has as yet had the opportunity of either witnessing or hearing the results of, but they are to him perfectly satisfactory; the more so, that Mr. W., who made the experiments, was himself perfectly ignorant of any process of the kind until informed of it at the actual time of making the experiment. It may be considered over-hasty to publish these experiments in their present crude state, but the Communicator does so with a view to investigation. He will have no opportunity himself of making any experiments, as he is unacquainted with the treatment of horses, and neither owns any nor is likely to be thrown in the way of any unbroken colts. But the experiment is easy for any horse-owner, and would be best made in the stable, where the horse might easily be haltered down so as to offer no resistance. The method would, no doubt, be found efficacious for the subjugation and taming of vicious horses. The readers will, of course, have heard of the celebrated Irish horse-charmers. They never would communicate the secret, nor allow any one to be with them while they were in the stable taming the horse. It is agreed, however, that they approached the head. The Communicator feels sure that the method they employed was analogous to that contained in these pages. Persons have paid high prices for having their horses charmed; they have now an opportunity of charming horses themselves, at a very small expense of time and labour. Half an hour will suffice to subdue the most fiery steed—the wild horse of the prairies of North America.
The Communicator has no object but that of benefiting the public in the above communication. The method is not his own, nor has he the merit of having first published it; but he thinks that he is the first who has caused the experiment to be made in England, and the entire success of that experiment induces him to make the present communication, in the hope that he may benefit not only his countrymen by the publication of a simple, easy,and rapid method of performing what was formerly a long, tedious, and difficult process, but also the “puir beasties” themselves, by saving them from the pains and tortures of what is very aptly termed “breaking-in.” Mr. Catlin, indeed, speaks of the horse’s struggles being severe, but they were the struggles of a wild horse, just caught on a prairie, and not of the domestic animal quietly haltered in a stable. The process as now presented is one of great humanity to the horse, as well as ease and economy to the horse-owner. The only objections to it are its novelty and simplicity. Those who have strength of mind to act for themselves, and not to despise any means, however simple or apparently childish, will have cause to rejoice over the great results at which they will arrive. But the great watchword which the Communicator would impress upon his readers is, “Experiment!”
Magna est veritas et prævalebit.
A. J. E.
Note.—The above experiments, which the Author has supposed might be interesting to some of his readers, have been even more successful than he would have anticipated, having always believed that to bring about the surprising compromise he has so often witnessed by exchanging breath, the animal should be a wild one, and in the last extremity of fear and exhaustion.—The Author.
THE END.
London: Printed byWilliam ClowesandSons, Stamford Street.